Kaavl Conspiracy, page 23
“Sulk. Or get back to work. Your choice.”
“I’ll practice today.” Methusal felt ashamed as she left his office. Was she really that pitiful? Whining, on the verge of slandering Goric…
But Kitran was right. The world hadn’t ended because she’d lost the Tri-level. She needed to pull herself together and work even harder. Next year, she’d win. Next year, she’d make sure a judge was stationed on the far bluffs, too.
* * * * *
Methusal and Liem are becoming more dangerous. They are fools, and fools do not enjoy a long life span. It’s laughable that Methusal does not realize the key to the 2nd Book of Kaavl hangs around her neck. A fool, like all Rolbanis. My ally wishes to see the necklace, but I fear he must languish with disappointment. I have the information I need. Now only to find the book, and unravel the peace between Rolban and her “allies,” once and for all. I will take care of my own enemies swiftly, for the glory of Zindedi.
* * * * *
The remainder of the day passed in relative peace. Aali had compiled a list of immigrants who were either guards or served on the Council, and had given her findings to Methusal that afternoon.
Fourteen men remained on the list. Narrowing it down still further would be difficult.
Catching the thief in the act was obviously the best solution. Even though the pots were found in Tarst, Dehre still could be involved in the thefts. And their runner would come tomorrow. That meant if Dehre was in allegiance with the Rolbani thief, items might be stolen tonight or tomorrow night, and tossed down into the ravine for pick up. Petr continued to refuse to post guards, so she would have to take matters into her own hands.
First, though, she’d practice kaavl, and then she’d stake out the garment room. A hunch told her it would be the thief’s next target.
Methusal sat cross-legged on the pallet in her room, quieted her mind, and then concentrated fully into kaavl. Today she’d study an excerpt from the ancient First Book of Kaavl, written by the Old Kaavl Master, Mahre. It was the only text they had which detailed how to learn kaavl.
If only they had the Second Book of Kaavl. Unfortunately, it had disappeared from Rolban during the Great War. Legend said a Dehrien had stolen it, but no one knew for sure. The man and his cohorts had died at the end of the war. Most people believed the book had been destroyed then, too. After the Great War, Rolban had sent search parties to every corner of the continent to find the book, but no trace had ever been found.
The First Book of Kaavl had been copied many times, but the Maahr family, as direct descendants of Mahre, owned the original copy. Methusal opened the brown, brittle cover, and traced the inscription inside the first page.
By Mahre. For all succeeding generations.
A few more words were scratched onto the first page:
Love The One
with all your heart
and with all your soul
and with all your mind,
…and love your neighbor as yourself.
She’d known these scriptures all of her life, but how did you love a God you didn’t know? Who was he, and what was he like? Rolban was not a particularly devout community. Sometimes, on the seventh day of the week, someone would read a few words from the thin, tattered Word of The One, but usually not.
As she’d done many times over the last few days, Methusal thought about the dream she’d had in jail. It still made no sense to her. Why had she dreamed about The One at all? She never thought about him during the daytime.
Not true. Lately, she had been—because of Renn. His death made her wonder what lay beyond that final door. If The One was real, then what did he expect from her now?
Methusal turned the next page of the ancient book. The First Book of Kaavl outlined how to reach the Quatr, Tri and Bi-levels of kaavl. It contained a few tips about the Primary level, too. Complete control of body, mind, and emotions were the goals. One interesting paragraph caught Methusal’s attention. The ancient Master of the art, unparalleled since his death three hundred years ago, had written:
Kaavl is not a religion, and cannot provide moral rules to guide one’s life. Rather, it is a method by which one can more truly experience life by mastering control over one’s self and senses. Self-control provides one tool by which one can practice what is right and true.
Self-control helped a person do the right thing. But did complete self-control include milking all of her emotions dry? Did it mean she should channel that emotional energy to intensify her kaavl?
Had the Old Kaavl Master used emotional energy? She had never read about that concept in the First Book of Kaavl. But surely Kitran knew what he was talking about.
Soon she would have to choose—to continue on to the Bi-level or not. But the idea of climbing to the second level now felt like stepping into a cave with no way out. Only grays and blacks and shadows… No colors with which to experience life.
But the paragraph had said that kaavl was one way a person could truly experience life.
It made no sense. Frustrated, she wondered what the Second Book of Kaavl said about the matter. According to legend, it resolved all conflicts and clearly explained how to reach the Ultimate level—which only Mahre had achieved, late in life. If only she could read that book!
The endless questions weren’t helping her to concentrate. After all, she didn’t have to decide now. But her reluctance to continue up the kaavl ladder made her feel scared, and a little empty. What could she pursue instead of kaavl? Was kaavl the only thing that gave meaning to her life?
Stop it! Time to practice.
Methusal squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. Gradually, her worries melted away as she focused on her hearing.
Tonight, for the first time, she would try to carry into the gathering room down the hall. No one was playing whaal tonight. Instead, she soon heard a few council members in the room discussing the upcoming visit of a group of Dehrien merchants. They would arrive on Sixthday; one week from today. The delegation would be twenty in number, and would stay in Rolban for two days. Rolban had never hosted such a large group from another community before, and the council members—especially Petr—seemed eager to make sure that all went well.
Methusal heard the low tones of her father, and concentrated harder. He would be the focal point for her carry.
“Where would they stay, then?”
The carry was difficult, and her nails bit into her palms as she concentrated. This was the first time she’d ever tried to carry through twenty lengths of solid rock, without the aid of her eyes to pinpoint the location of her carryee. In her struggle to accomplish the near impossible, she missed the reply, and instead focused upon her father’s voice, who spoke again.
“Whose compartments, then? And where will our people stay?” At last! Methusal pinpointed her father’s location, and mentally completed the carry her hearing had already made. It was almost as if she sat in the very place her father sat, and heard everything he heard. Only she was blind, and could not see the others in the room. She could only tell them apart by their voices.
She couldn’t relax her concentration for an instant, or she’d lose the carry.
“We’ll double up,” said Barak, to her father’s right. “Let’s see a show of hands. Who’s willing to give up their compartment for a few days?”
To her frustration, Methusal heard only a whoosh of hands.
“Good!” Directly across from Erl, Petr sounded pleased. “One problem solved. Sims! Do we have enough food?”
Old Sims’ voice came from Erl’s left. “We’re running low, since the grain was stolen. Fresh meat would help.”
“Noted.” Petr did not sound concerned. “Now…”
Suddenly exhausted, Methusal relaxed. The carry had drained all of her energy, and her stomach gave a protesting gurgle. A snack before staking out the garment room sounded appealing.
She blew out the lamp above her pallet and slipped from the compartment. It was late, and the passageway deserted. Methusal glanced into the gathering chamber as she passed by, and was pleased to note Sims, Petr, Barak and her father all in the exact positions she had pinpointed during her carry exercise.
A single lamp burned just inside the entrance to the dining hall, leaving most of the large room and the kitchen shrouded in shadows. Moving too quickly, she bumped into the buffet rock outcropping. She bit back a cry of pain and cautiously advanced forward again, hands stretched ahead like feelers.
In the kitchen the light filtered weakly through the serving window, making the counters appear gray, but the floor remained black, looking like a deep pit. Carefully, she moved to the far wall. Her fingers patted up, over the rocky ledge and touched the earthenware bowl filled with leftover dried meat. At last. Greedily, she grasped two roughly textured meat strips and ripped off a bite.
“Looks like I’ve caught the mysterious food burglar.” Behran’s voice, a shade of its old mocking tone, sent her spinning around. She almost choked on the food sliding down her throat. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. They had barely spoken for several days. And his first words were annoying, as usual.
“I’m getting a snack. What are you doing here, Behran?” Defend and attack. Not much had changed. Strangely, though, she was glad they were speaking again.
He shrugged. “I’m hungry.”
Methusal approached the ledge that separated them. “Have a meat strip.”
“Thanks.” Accepting it, his gaze returned to her. His face was partly in the shadows, and his eyes were dark and unreadable. Silent seconds ticked by.
Feeling uncomfortable, Methusal crossed her arms. “Well?”
“Well, what?” The dancing shadows revealed a quirked brow.
“You’re staring at me. Why?”
He bit off a corner of the meat strip. “You okay now?”
“With what?”
“Losing to me and Goric.”
“I can accept losing to you. You’re really good.” It was the truth. Behran deserved her respect. “But I don’t understand how Goric got by us both. I never saw him reach the bluff.”
“Neither did I.”
“Where did you capture your two people?”
“The first one was halfway to the bluffs, and the second was a little further on.”
Three systems of movement had remained after Methusal had caught Daltha at the start of the course. “He hid on the plains, right in the beginning.” She gritted her teeth.
“Can you prove it?”
“Of course not.”
“Why do you think he hid?”
Although Methusal didn’t want to tell Behran about her unusual kaavl abilities, she could say a little. “I was tracking sounds of movement. Two sound systems stopped when I captured Daltha. Daltha was one. Goric must have been the other. After that, three remained—you, and the two people you captured later on.”
“Maybe you missed him.”
“You, too?”
“It is pretty suspicious,” he agreed. “Goric’s been at the Tri-level for all of the three years he’s lived here. He’s okay, but he’s not terrific.”
Tentatively, she asked, “Do you think he cheated?”
“It’s possible.”
“Would you go to Kitran with me and tell him the facts we do know?”
“Yes. If you’ll forgive all the rude comments I’ve given you over the last five years.”
Methusal went very still. She met his steady blue gaze. “I will. But only if you’ll forgive me, too.”
“Done.”
She smiled. “Truce, then.”
“Teasing isn’t the same as being rude, you know.”
“So that’s what you call it now?”
He grinned, but did not reply. After a moment he said, “If Goric is expelled, you’d go to the Inter-Community Games.”
“If Petr let me.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t found another suspect yet.”
“I don’t think he’s looking for one. He has that note and the bloody knife, and apparently that’s all the proof he needs.”
“Pretty cynical. Have you found any new clues?”
“Yesterday I found a list Renn wrote…” Methusal stopped. All of a sudden, the tantalizing facts that kept slipping out of reach snapped into place. She breathed, “Renn didn’t write that note!”
“The note Petr found in your compartment?” Behran guessed.
“Yes.” Methusal couldn’t believe she’d missed the truth staring her in the face this whole time. “He couldn’t have written the note Petr found in my compartment. I’m surprised I didn’t notice it sooner.” She returned to the first topic. “Anyway, like I said, yesterday I found a list Renn wrote. Sims verified that it is Renn’s writing. But here’s what’s strange. The zero in the date on the note is completely different than the zero on the list!”
“Is that important?”
“Renn always wrote his zeroes with a slash through them. The note didn’t have a slash through the zero. And the note’s writing…it’s just not right. It’s smaller and cramped, like someone was trying to copy Renn’s handwriting. Renn’s handwriting is taller and more angular.”
“Show Petr. See what he says.”
“I’ll take Sims with me.” Methusal wanted a witness, and also someone to corroborate her facts. Excitement swelled within her. And better yet, hope.
“If Petr agrees you’re innocent, and if Goric is disqualified, then you can go to the Kaavl Games!”
Methusal shook her head. “I’m afraid to believe it. I’m afraid to hope.”
“Do you feel like you’re ready for it, if you can go?”
“I’ll need more practice. But I think so. What about you?”
Behran nodded. “I wish we knew more about the competition.”
“They’re at the Tri-level,” she pointed out. “If they were much better, they’d compete at the Bi-level, according to the First Book of Kaavl.” Mahre had laid out strict guidelines regarding the placement of contenders. A student was judged according to his or her abilities. No one was allowed to compete at an inappropriate skill level.
“True.”
Talking about the Bi-level reminded Methusal of Kitran’s new kaavl ideas. Cautiously, she said, “Do you plan to advance to the second level? You’re almost qualified now.”
An unexpected pause followed her query, as if Behran was giving serious thought to her question. Finally, he said, “I don’t know.”
Surprised, she said, “Why not?”
“I don’t know if I have what it takes.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged, and his face turned slightly, so the faint light revealed the troubled look in his eyes. “I’ve seen the future. And I’m not sure I like it.”
“How so?”
He leaned forward, so his elbows rested on the counter between them. Quietly, he said, “By the future, I mean Kitran. I could never be like him.”
Finally, Methusal understood. She and Behran were having the same doubts about climbing the kaavl ladder.
Time to be candid. “I can’t control my emotions like that, either. And I don’t want to.”
Behran’s brows flew up. “Then you know what I’m talking about?”
“Yes. But I don’t understand one thing—the Book of Kaavl doesn’t tell us to use emotional energy to improve in kaavl.”
“The first book doesn’t.”
“That’s the only book we have.”
“I know, but Kitran thinks he knows how to make that final jump to the Ultimate level—by using the power of emotion. He thinks it’s a key factor to quickly reach the second and first levels, too.”
“How do you know all of this?”
“He told me. He’s trying to achieve the Ultimate level right now.” Behran inclined closer. “And he’s discussed it with kaavl leaders in the other communities. They all agree with him.”
Methusal knew that Kitran stayed in close contact with other kaavl instructors—he had once been a messenger, and now kept up old friendships. He’d also become acquainted with Mentàll during that time. But she did wonder how Behran had learned all of this information. “Why did he tell you this?”
“I told him my doubts about advancing.”
Methusal’s mouth fell open. “Really? You mean you told him to his face you don’t want to be like him?”
A grin flashed in the shadowy light. “Not exactly. I used tact. That’s when he told me his philosophy.”
“So it’s only a theory?” Relief flooded her.
Behran nodded.
Could it be true, though? Was Kitran right about how to reach the fabled Ultimate level? Complete self-control, using every scrap of emotion to focus into kaavl, not to mention feeling no emotion…
Behran straightened. “I don’t think he wants this to become general knowledge yet. He wants to prove it first.”
Methusal wondered how Kitran could ever prove it. If the Second Book of Kaavl was destroyed, how could they ever know if it was the true path to the Ultimate level? But if it wasn’t destroyed… What a gift to kaavl that would be. And, she realized, what a source of power it could be for those communities which chose leaders based on kaavl abilities. With that book, someone could conceivably stay in power forever.
“I won’t say anything,” she promised. But it seemed clear that she wouldn’t be able to climb to higher kaavl levels unless she focused her emotional energy like Kitran taught. He believed his theory was the only way to advance, so he wouldn’t allow anyone to pass who didn’t practice it.
Behran interrupted her troubled thoughts. “I’m supposed to blow out the lights downstairs. Want to help?”
“Sure.” Methusal was more than happy to move on to a new subject. Her favorite occupation was creating a problem in her otherwise focused life. And that was the crux of her dilemma. Because for the last five years, kaavl had been her only focus in life.
“Let’s start with the lamps nearest the gate,” Behran suggested a few moments later, when they reached the Great Hall.
